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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27854838">It’s bad luck to see the bride on her wedding day</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoCarthage/pseuds/JoCarthage'>JoCarthage</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fluff, Hand Feeding, Kissing, M/M, Malex Secret Santa 2020, Shaving, Wedding Fluff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 22:42:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,691</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27854838</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoCarthage/pseuds/JoCarthage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He swept his hand up Michael’s chest, trailing his fingertips along the big vein in his neck, gentle pressure easing the other man back against his chest.</p><p>“You ready?”</p><p>Michael nodded, preening back to press his lips to Alex’s cheek, eyes carefully closed. They’d figured they should hold to some traditions. It hadn’t seemed safe for Alex to keep his eyes closed the morning of their wedding, so Michael had offered. Alex figured that made him the bride, but Michael had been tickled at the idea and Alex figured it was one more thing to do their own way, so here they were.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Michael Guerin/Alex Manes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>144</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>12 Days Of Malex 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>It’s bad luck to see the bride on her wedding day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Milzilla/gifts">Milzilla</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>My Malex Secret Santa giftee @<a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Milzilla/">Milzilla</a>/@<a href="http://queersirius.tumblr.com/">queersirius</a> asked for "friends. please god i just want them to be friends and do friends stuff while also being horrendously in love with one another.” I hope you like it!</p><p>I wrote this entire thing to this Jack Johnson's "We're Going To Be Friends" (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H6_OP50BpKo) because I heard it on TikTok and I loved the idea of Michael and Alex being friends who love each other.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Alex sat behind Michael, back against the headboard, as he traced the tattoo over his shoulder-blade.</p><p>“Tell again about about this one?” He followed the arching shape over his wing-bone, sort of a bulging c-shape. Michael arched his shoulder in a sort-of shrug, skin moving soothingly over the bone.</p><p>“It was the first design I had for the console. It took me 5 years to come up with, so when I finally got the pieces to come together for the first time, I had to go out and celebrate it.”</p><p>Alex knew the subtext of that story -- that he’d had no one else he could tell stories to, that he’d had to invent his own way to celebrate achievements no one in the world would ever know.</p><p>He graced his knuckles down his spine, a long line of stars.</p><p>“And this?”</p><p>Michael turned his head, curls flirting over his closed eyes. “That’s the constellation Gliese 667Cc is in, as viewed from earth.”</p><p>Alex leaned down to kiss the top, the star he thought was sol. “A pathway home.”</p><p>Michael twisted a little, eyes still carefully closed. “You know I’m not going to git onto some spaceship and fly away, right?”</p><p>Alex knew that <em> now </em>, though it had taken months of tense misunderstandings to get to that point.</p><p>“Yeah, I know,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss the sun at the top of Michael’s spine again.</p><p>He curled his hand around Michael’s ribs, sweetly pleased he couldn’t easily see their shape. He’d loved every version of Michael’s body he’d ever seen, but the man had been so thin in the months leading up to their defeat of Mr Jones; working constant hours, nights spent sleeping in his lab. Alex had made it his personal goal to feed him up, keep him safe, do everything he’d meant to do for and with him when they were 17. He crept his fingertips around to Michael’s stomach, where he knew there was a full color depiction of red-skied Gliese 667Cc -- his engagement present to Michael. Michael had built him a new prosthesis, using some of the techniques he’d learned reconstructing his mother’s ship. The presents had felt good, in balance: both helping the other connect to the earth they had come from, carry a bit of the stars around with them.</p><p>“Have you decided where on Gliese you think your family came from?” he said, closing his eyes as he nudged his nose into Michael’s curls, taking a breath of his sweet smells.</p><p>“It would have to be in the habitable ring, since it’s tidally locked,” Michael said, and that had been a joy too, learning how much he knew about exoplanets, about how they could be so close to their home sun that the planet itself could not turn, that living things would thrive in the constant twilight between the constant dark and the everyday on the other side.</p><p>Michael took a long breath: “I was thinking, maybe in the north? I don’t know, Walt said something about Nora not liking the heat, so maybe she came from a cold place? If there’s a planetary tilt, it might be colder in the north.” His next breath was a bit harder. “It’s just there’s so much we don’t know.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Alex said, thinking of all of the family stories and history that had died with his grandparents, whose last words had been in a language he barely knew a handful of words in. “I get that.”</p><p>He swept his hand up Michael’s chest, trailing his fingertips along the big vein in his neck, gentle pressure easing the other man back against his chest.</p><p>“You ready?”</p><p>Michael nodded, preening back to press his lips to Alex’s cheek, eyes carefully closed. They’d figured they should hold to some traditions. It hadn’t seemed safe for Alex to keep his eyes closed the morning of their wedding, so Michael had offered. Alex figured that made him the bride, but Michael had been tickled at the idea and Alex figured it was one more thing to do their own way, so here they were.</p><p>“Alright, I’m going to get dressed while you sit there and look pretty, then I’ll get you dressed. Isobel is coming to knock on the door in 45 mins; she’s my ride to the park. Max will be right behind her.”</p><p>“We’ve gone over this a million times, Alex,” Michael said with a soft smile, “I know the plan.”</p><p>“Just making sure,” Alex muttered, swinging his legs to the side of the bed. There was a handmade bowl filled with fruit on the bedside table -- Rosa’s contributions to the proceedings. They’d asked for no wedding presents, since they had two complete households and no needs for toasters or ice cream makers. But everyone had wanted to give them something, so Isobel had deposited them throughout the room before he and Michael had arrived. Michael had closed his eyes the moment they’d entered the room the night before, just before midnight, and he wouldn't open them until Alex was on his way. </p><p>Alex leaned over to the bowl, plucking out a grape. “You hungry?”</p><p>Michael nodded, orienting his face to where Alex was sitting by sound. </p><p>Alex leaned over: “Want to know what it is or can I surprise you?”</p><p>“I trust you.”</p><p>That hit him in the stomach like a kiss, like a breath before he stepped into a new life. He reached for Michael, sliding his fingertips up his gently stubbled cheek and into his hair, gently cradling his jaw. He held the grape just at his lips, and grinned as Michael breathed in. </p><p>Alex’s voice was a little hoarse when he murmured: “Open for me?”</p><p>Michael’s lips opened slowly and Alex wasn’t sure how he was going to survive this day, with his hard-soft man, so pliant and so willing in his arms. </p><p>They’d had more than enough fun last night, and then again this morning; now, they really were on the clock. Michael took the grape, chewing with a crinkle of a smile around his eyes. </p><p>“Want another?”And Michael shook his head. </p><p>“You can give me the bowl. I don’t want Iz to come in and see me in my altogethers because we got distracted. Again.”</p><p>Alex felt a little thrill of worry move down his back; he also didn’t want to get caught naked by his perfectly organized wedding planner slash sister-in-law.</p><p>“Sure,” he said, passing over the sturdy ceramic bowl and setting it carefully on the white duvet covering Michael’s lap. Michael slid his thumbs around the rim. “You said it was turquoise and red and Rosa made it?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Alex said, “the same turquoise as your truck on the outside, the orange of the Dinétah flag, with the rainbow from that flag all around the rim. It’s really beautiful.”</p><p>“I can’t wait to see it,” Michael said, slipping his fingers into the bowl and plucking out a strawberry. He kept his face towards Alex as Alex watched him pluck off the stem and pop the ruby red flesh between his teeth.</p><p>“You gonna admire my stunning beauty or get dressed, almost-Mr Truman?” Michael asked with a grin.</p><p>“I’m going, I’m going,” Alex said, reaching for his new prosthetic -- lighter, easier on his stump, easier to maintain, it had been just about the kindest gift he’d ever gotten. He would have been certain there was nothing he could have gotten Michael was would have been as thoughtful and as kind, but as he watched the other man trace his fingers over his tattoo of his home planet, a look of quiet on his face, Alex knew he’d found something that meant just as much to Michael.</p><p>He pulled the prosthetic on, and then walked to the bathroom, pulling out the suits he and Michael had gotten fitted for together, giggling and making not-so-much jokes about how this could have been prom for them.</p><p>Without even having to have Isobel intervene, Alex had stuck with a simple black suit with enough give in the pants to keep him from feeling utterly trapped by the formalwear. He got dressed quickly, body comfortable in the clothes. They’d worn them out a few times, to fancy dinners in Sante Fe during long weekends together, and once, memorably, to a gala at the UFO Museum where Alex had shown Michael every single one of their old hide-aways were still easily accessible, if <em>maybe</em> a tighter squeeze for two fully grown men to make time in.</p><p>Alex finished tying his tie and was just brushing his hair into some kind of order when he glanced over at Michael and felt his entire stomach flip.</p><p>He’d laid back on the bed, arms crossed behind his head, all golden skin and relaxed muscles. Alex thought he might be the only person in the world who’d ever seen Michael without tattoos. From when he’d gathered, Michael had avoided changing in front of anyone for his entire childhood -- a fairly normal trauma response and self-protective act given his living environments -- and he’d started getting tattoos as soon as Alex had shipped out. But for one glorious summer, Alex had seen the canvas Michael had spent 14 years painting with the story of his life.</p><p>He liked every version of Michael’s body and he didn’t miss that young, unformed body; but he did treasure that trust Michael had had in him, to share that softness with him before the world hardened it away.</p><p>Now Michael was a canvas in progress, an always moving mix of art and science, love and aching want, yearning for something he likely would never touch and satisfaction in the life he’d built in spite of it. Alex had no idea what his next tattoo would be, but he loved to asked Michael to tell him about each one, to tell and retell his stories. He felt like he learned something new every time.</p><p>Alex finished his hair and looked himself in the mirror. He’d begun to recognize himself more and more, these past few months. He’d been afraid this morning would be a bad brain day, that he’d have to force himself through some kind of internal mess. But by some kind of grace or luck, his mind was a soft and clear as the air between him and Michael, and just as filled with sunlight.</p><p>“You ready to get dressed?”</p><p>Michael hooked his heels under the edge of the bed frame, levering himself to sitting without using his hands. “Yep,”</p><p>“Want a shave first? I’m happy either way, but I’m happy to do it if you’d like.”</p><p>If he didn’t know any better, he would have sworn Michael was blushing.</p><p>“Sure,” he said, sliding to the end of the bed. Alex met him there, and Michael offered his elbow for Alex's hand, following him into the small bathroom. Michael stood, naked as the day he was hatched, as Alex laid a hotel-white towel down on the shower chair. It was a smooth edged, elegant handmade piece that had been Kyle’s wedding present to them. He guided Michael into the large shower, settling him on the chair. Michael’s hand drifted to his wrist, some part of him wanting the comfort of touch, unbuttoning his french cuffs with his mind as Alex got the razor from the new shaving kit on the sink. That was a gift from Arturo. Two razors, two sets of moisturizers and conditioners for their different hair types, two sets of new, beautiful combs. Alex stepped between his knees, felt the pressure of them against his legs through the soft fabric of the suit pants.</p><p>“Tilt back for me?” </p><p>Michael obliged, showing the long, clean line of his throat, the quiet morning light filtering through the window. Alex drifted his fingers through Michael’s curls, unable to stop himself, leaning down to brush a kiss across his unsuspecting lips. Michael gasped gently into his mouth, gripping his wrist before kissing back and back arching away from the shower chair in his need for more contact, and Alex just wanted to climb into his lap, retest the weight limits of the chair -- though they’d already given it a good go-round last night -- but he kept himself to task and pulled back, murmuring against his lips:</p><p>“I’m going to turn on the razor, start along your neck,” he slid his finger over his Adam’s apple, “then work my way up to your cheeks, alright?” </p><p>Michael’s breath was a little faster than it had been, but he nodded, setting his head back again.</p><p>Alex turned on the razor, fingers tracing each patch of skin before he shaved it, hairs falling in his lap. Alex leaned down, flipping the edges of the towel over Michael’s lap, covering his beautiful cock but Alex figured it was more important to keep him from having itchy hair down his pants on his wedding day.</p><p>Alex kept shaving, stretching the skin on the underside of his jaw to get a clean line, leaning down to kiss Michael’s pulse point as soon as the skin was smooth. Once he’d finished with his neck, he reached behind himself, finding the moisturizer in Michael’s half of the shave kit, and applying it to his skin. He rubbed it into Michael’s skin, watching the slight redness from the razor recede.</p><p>“That smells nice,” Michael said, voice soft, face relaxed. Alex wished he could bottle this moment -- the trust, the quiet of it, the comfort Michael had in his body, in this moment. He wished he could hold it between them always.</p><p>“It’s mint and sage, very cowboy chic,” Alex said and Michael grinned before letting his face soften again.</p><p>“Chin then cheeks,” Alex said and Michael’s lips twitched a little, but he kept his voice to himself. </p><p>He started to shave the edges of Michael’s chin, careful of his cleft and the curves of it. Half his mind was thinking about how he’d model Michael’s lips in a 3D program, what kind of equations he’d need to trace the concave and convex curves, when he felt movement over his stomach. He glanced down, to see Michael’s fingers roving. He wasn’t undoing Alex’s carefully set buttons, but just -- exploring. With his fingertips, his palms, the backs of his hands, exploring the shapes of the suit, the hard press of the clasp of the cumberbund at the sway of his back, the long thin line of his zipper. He hadn’t told Alex to stop, but it seemed even in this moment of peace, Michael would always be a source of movement.</p><p>Alex smiled to himself and kept shaving, shaping up his sideburns, going with the grain once and then against the grain to get the last stray hairs. </p><p>“Same lotion ok?”</p><p>Michael settled his hands on Alex’s hips and smiled up at him, eyes still closed: “Sure, love,” Michael said and Alex warmed the gel between his cupped palms until it felt comfortable then spread it with his thumbs, first under Michael’s eyes, then tracing down his cheekbones, then the filling-in hollows of his cheeks; up and down his neck, around the curve of his chin, and finally around his lips. The way the soft skin moved and felt against his thumbs was just as hypnotic as it had been the first time he’d brushed his fingers across Michael’s mouth as a teenager, in the back of his truck, trying to show him where he had a bit of chocolate leftover from their gas station dinner.</p><p>He leaned down and replaced his thumb with his lips: “All done. Want to stand for me?”</p><p>Michael nodded, slipping the towel off and carefully stepping out of the tub. Alex glanced at him, noting with satisfaction very few hairs had gotten onto his skin. He brushed his palms down Michael’s thighs, just once as he hissed his breath in, getting a few hairs but mostly for the reaction.</p><p>“Underwear, socks, pants, shoes, shirt, jacket, hat, tie?” He asked, reaching for Michael’s bag. </p><p>“Still no cumberbund?” Michael checked, resting a hand on the bathroom counter.</p><p>Alex huffed a chuckle: “I think Iz took you seriously when you told her you’d elope if you had to wear ‘one of those corset-y things,’”</p><p>“I <em> was </em> serious,” Michael said, a smile in his voice.</p><p>Alex returned, lowering himself to the floor and tapping the top of Michael’s left foot. He raised it, then the right, and Alex pulled his briefs up, enjoying the contrast of the black fabric on his tanned skin, carefully settling the fabric against his skin. Socks and pants and cowboy boots took the same motions. Alex unbuttoned the shirt to get it off the hanger and its cuffs to make room for Michael's hands. It was a green so dark it was almost black with silver buttons. Then Alex reached through the sleeve, gripping Michael’s fingers and pulling his arm through. </p><p>And he couldn't help it -- he wrapped his arms around him, giving him a long, warm hug that Michael returned with a chuckle as he moved the fabric behind his back, before following the same process to get his other hand through the sleeve. Michael started buttoning the shirt from the top down, as Alex worked from the bottom up, fingers tangling in the middle. Then Alex did his french cuffs, then the black suit jacket, letting Michael wiggle his arms until the fabric settled right on his shoulders.</p><p>“You still want the tie?” He asked.</p><p>Michael cocked his head: “I thought you liked it?”</p><p>Alex shrugged, then found his words: “I like you. I like you comfortable and happy.”</p><p>“It’s part of Iz’s vision --”</p><p>“It’s our wedding. We can do whatever we want.”</p><p>Michael leaned towards him and Alex completed the gesture, meeting his seeking kiss. Michael mumbled against his lips: “I hate ties. They remind me of going to court.”</p><p>“No tie then,” Alex said and he <em> felt </em> Michael grin.</p><p>“Just your hat then,” Alex said, reaching over. This was a present from Max, a new black Stetson. Not to replace Michael’s old one, but to give it a chance rest, sag into its new home on a hook in his and Alex’s house.</p><p>
  <em> A man deserves more than just one hat. </em>
</p><p>“Yep,” Michael said, lifting his chin as Alex dragged his fingers through his curls before gently settling the hat onto them.</p><p>He closed the distance between them, kissing Michael, feeling his arms twine behind him, reeling him in, holding him tight against him. Through all the clothes, Alex could still feel Michael’s interest, his heat against him. He was just considering how far they could get without taking off their pants, when he heard a knock at the door.</p><p>“That’ll be Isobel,” he gasped into the space between them, voice cracking a little. He cleared his throat. “Want me to walk you over to the bed?”</p><p>“You sure she can’t wait 5 mins?”</p><p>Alex shook his head, nose bumping Michael’s. “Not unless we want the entire party to be waiting in that field you two picked out. Isobel has this planned down to the second." </p><p>“Hey, I love that field. We made time in that field, Mr almost-Truman.” </p><p>Alex grinned: “I know, I just think it’s funny we’re getting married in a city park, in a city that could have seen the backs of us years ago and been happy about it.”</p><p>“At least half of the fun of getting married in the park is the <em> fuck-you </em> aspect of it,” Michael said with a grin. Alex kissed that grin as Isobel knocked harder on the door, hardware rattling a little.</p><p>“Coming!” he called out as he started to walk Michael to the bed.</p><p>He heard her huff in annoyance: “You better not be!”</p><p>“Gross,” Alex muttered as Michael chuckled. Alex backed him up until his shins hit the bed frame and then pressed gently on his shoulders until he sat. Then, unable to hold back, he straddled him, meeting Michael’s seeking mouth, kissing him once, as hard as he could, putting all of his hopes for the day and anxieties about the future and how their past kept tripping them up and joy that they’d finally gotten this far ahead of all that trouble. And it came right back to him, the same coming from Michael, and more.</p><p>He pulled himself away before Isobel could lock-pick the door, gripping Michael’s hand one last time. “I’ll see you at the end of the aisle,” Alex said, memorizing how he looked in the streaming morning light.</p><p>“I’ll see you then,” Michael said, and blew him a kiss.</p><p>Alex grinned, catching it, before moving to the door, opening it as Isobel’s fist was about to fall.</p><p>“We’re ready to go,” he said, and Isobel peered around him into the room where Michael waved a little loopily.</p><p>“Good,” she said, “let’s get you going.”</p><p>Alex leaned back into the room: “I love you from earth to Gliese 667Cc and back,” he said, and Michael grinned, saying: “I love you until the end of time. See you soon, love.”</p><p>Alex nodded, letting Isobel shut the door between them.</p><p>Alex paused. They’d have a ceremony in front of everyone who loved them, Liz and Greg catering and Maria bringing the liquor. Then they’d be driving up to a quiet cabin in the mountains for a week, and Alex would get to peel Michael out of that suit.</p><p>He figured, if he was a better man, he’d care more about the ceremony, the forever-promise of it all. But he and Michael had already made their promises to each other, written them in ink and manufactured bone. They were each other’s and would be as long as they could hold their love strong between them. The public celebration of a private commitment mattered, but it was the love, the trust, and the connection between them that was what their marriage <em> was</em>.</p><p>“Are you ready?” Isobel asked, as Alex snapped out of his daydream, realizing he was staring back at the closed hotel room door.</p><p>“I am,” he said, and followed her to his future.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Comments are life! I hope you liked it, Millie!</p><p>Special thanks to the Roswell NM 18+ Discord group for all of the ideas for presents!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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